


In an Autumn Forest

by LawrenceKinden



Category: Original Work
Genre: Autumn, F/M, Spanking, Voyeurism, f/m - Freeform, forest, spank, switch - Freeform, wet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-28
Updated: 2018-01-28
Packaged: 2019-03-10 15:03:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13504014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LawrenceKinden/pseuds/LawrenceKinden
Summary: [Story Depicts Spanking]





	In an Autumn Forest

Autumnal red and gold filtered the sunlight, dappling the forest floor in shades and shadows. Though it was early afternoon, in the forest it was practically twilight. A chill wind scattered brittle leaves and the scent of sap down the well-worn footpath, ruffling the scarf, skirts, and hair of the girl who wore that path a little more each month. The path led from the nearby village to an old logger's cabin where her grandmother lived. Her grandfather and father had both been loggers, living in that cabin, but since their deaths, the girl and her mother had gone to live in the village. Only the elderly grandmother lived there now and the girl's frequent visits were the old woman's only connection to life outside the cabin.

From my perch, high in a great weaver tree, I watched her walk, humming to herself, ignorant of my presence. I bit my lip in frustration. She was such a beauty: snow white skin, shining brown eyes, flowing raven hair. Her hips and breasts were swollen with recent womanhood. It was all I could do to remain upon my branch, knuckles white with the strength I used to keep me there.

The girl passed beneath me, directly below my branch, and I watched her hips swaying back and forth under the bright red cape and dress she wore today.

Not far from my favorite hiding place, there was a fork in the path, a path less taken, and the girl stopped there as she sometimes did, as I always hoped she would. She took a moment to decide while I held my breath and hoped some more. And then she picked her way carefully down the less traveled. I bit my tongue to hold in a whoop of joy.

I followed my own well-worn path from steady tree branch to steady tree branch, an arboreal highway for which the woven trees were named, following the girl, then getting ahead of her until I was perched upon another branch, overlooking a clear, cold lake.

Moments after I'd settled into my new hiding spot, I could hear the girl's humming. I swallowed hard. Heat rose in my neck and cheeks and elsewhere too.

The girl set her basket on the lake shore and my stomach growled to know that basket was filled with baked goods and it had been too long since I'd eaten.

First she unclasped her scarlet cape and let it slide form her shoulders. Next she pulled the scarf from her head, freeing her shimmering black hair. When she began to loosen her bodice, I bit my tongue hard. Bodice loosened, she untied the ribbon at the back of her waist before letting the bright red dress part at her shoulders and slip down the length of her body leaving her in chemise, stockings and bloomers. The bloomers were fastened at the small of her back and, as her thin fingers fiddled with the ties, I had the urge to help her with them, to tear at the ties and bring her disrobing to a sudden conclusion. I gripped the tree harder. After the bloomers, she rolled down her stockings, one after the other, until she was clad only in the chemise. All the clothes she had removed ended up in a neatly folded pile atop the basket on the sandy lake shore.

A breeze filled with the scents and chill of Autumn sighed through the leaves, sent some spinning to the ground, and I watched the girl, expecting her to shiver. Instead, she stretched languorously, the chemise sliding up her torso as her arms reached above her head. I could see her nipples harden through the thin material. I could see the bottom-most curve of her firm nethers.

And that's when I fell out of the tree.

I came to, spluttering and soaked, the lake having broken my fall. I scrambled for the lake shore, not looking at the girl, not wanting to know her reaction to the sudden appearance of an embarrassed, foolish, errant peeper. I just wanted to keep my eyes down and disappear into the wood as quickly as possible. The mud of the lake made that impossible. Instead of scurrying away, I slogged, caked in mud, old leaves, and bits of pond scum.

"Oh you poor dear, are you all right?"

I looked up at the girl. She was as pretty as ever and for a moment I was captured by her beauty, staring at her lithe, womanly body sheathed only in sheer cloth. Her expression was of neither embarrassment nor outrage, but of sympathy. She grasped my arm and hauled me out of the lake. Before I could protest she had me out of my boots and was helping to strip off my sodden shirt and trews and soon I was standing before her in only soaking underthings.

"We'll have to get you warmed up," said the girl. And she smiled at me fondly. With an ease and efficiency she'd likely learned from her father, she had a campfire set up in mere minutes and insisted I wrap in her fine, scarlet cape and dry myself.

"You're the neighbor boy, aren't you? I've seen you before."

I nodded miserably, still trying not to look at her as much as possible. If she only knew how much I'd seen of her, how I watched her every free moment and any moment I could steal; how I watched her across the yard that separated our houses as she worked in the garden, or the glimpses of her in her bedroom, or the many times I'd followed her to her grandmother's house, perched in trees.

"What were you doing out here anyway?"

I turned away, afraid my expression of self-loathing and embarrassment would reveal me.

"You weren't spying on me, were you?"

I hunched my shoulders.

But she laughed lightly. "Oh! How delightful. Well, young man, we'll have to do something about that, yes?"

And she left me by that cracking fire, dancing in eddies of breeze, while I shivered uncontrollably. Do something? What did she intend? Was she leaving me here? Was she going to fetch my parents? But she returned shortly and, despite myself I looked up at her. She was smiling broadly, her raven hair pulled back into a severe bun, still only wearing that alluring chemise, and flexing a green switch in her hands.

My eyes went wide.

"I suppose you understand that you've been a very naughty boy?"

I swallowed hard, still staring at that switch. She flicked it at me and I jumped.

"Answer me!"

I nodded. "Yes, miss. I've been very naughty. Many times." I don't know what made me add that last bit. I certainly didn't need any more trouble.

She smiled. "This isn't the first time you've spied on me, is it?"

I shook my head. "No, miss."

"Well then. In that case, stand up and touch your toes."

I hesitated.

"Unless you'd like me to inform your parents? You're father's got a wide belt if I recall correctly and your mother has a willow in the backyard."

I stood and bent.

"Good boy."

Another silvery Autumn zephyr sighed over the lake and I shivered. The late autumn sun sparkled across the water, counterpoint to the dark woods around the lake. Red and gold leaves skittered along the lake shore. From the nearby town I could smell the baking of breads and pies, the burning of pine for warmth. And I heard the whistle of the switch as it cut the air and the fire as it bit into my tender nates, my soaked underthings no kind of barrier.

I gasped, spittle and tears sprinkling the lake shore.

The girl laughed, agentle chime, as she raised the switch for another.


End file.
